Twisted
by singitanyway13
Summary: Before something can be made straight, it has to get a little twisted.
1. Chapter 1

**Twisted**

Boring Friday nights were becoming a regular happening in Reba Hart's life. She'd go to work in the morning then come home to a dark, empty house. The only thing that was halfway entertaining was reading, so from about five in the evening to nine o'clock at night, she parked herself on the sofa and read. They were mostly books she had read before and loved, so she figured she'd re-read them. For the past week, her book of choice had been _Gone With The Wind_.

As the sun drooped low and the moon took its place at around seven o'clock, she finally decided she would get up and make a snack of some sort.

Quietly, she walked into the kitchen. As she turned on the light, she noticed how lonely the space had become. Years ago, the whole house would have been bustling with teenagers and grandbabies running around. The television blaring and something cooking in the oven. Barbra Jean and Brock would have been arguing about some petty thing, Cheyenne and Van would be trying to tame their two children, Kyra would have been listening to her iPod at the table, and Jake would have been bugging Van and Brock to go shoot hoops with him outside. The family Reba once knew had vanished before her very eyes.

As she opened the freezer to retrieve her favorite ice cream, she went over the past few years in her head.

Brock and Barbra Jean had divorced at the beginning of 2008 when the both of them decided to move to Little Rock together. The move had put so much stress on their relationship that they came back six months later with divorce papers in hand, having sold their tiny Arkansas home. Reba had been dumbfounded, as the rest of the family had been. Tears were shed, but Brock and Barbra Jean played it off like they were happier apart. And soon, everybody found this to be true.

Cheyenne and Van stayed at the house they had bought with their former high-school classmate, and baby Kasey was born right before Brock and Barbra Jean returned from Little Rock. They spent the majority of their time with friends and their children, coming to Reba's house only twice a month, if that. She missed her daughter and grandchildren immensely, and it seemed that everything reminded her of them.

Kyra had moved to Dallas after Brock and Barbra Jean's divorce. It didn't surprise anyone, seeing as how she had been closest to Barbra Jean and was so much like her mother. When she was hurt, she closed everyone off. Her stay in Dallas had proven to be successful, however. She landed a recording contract with a small label and was on top of the world. Reba had become convinced that she had completely forgotten about her life in Houston.

Then there was Jake. The baby. The eighteen-year-old baby in college in Austin. It had nearly killed Reba when her youngest child announced he'd be moving out of Houston to go to school with his buddies. That was four months ago. She still found herself to be upset about it.

_He'll visit, _she told herself. And he would. She just didn't know when.

"Hey, Reba."

Looking over her shoulder, Reba saw Barbra Jean come in the back door. She came over every once in a while just to chat. Her and Brock's house down the street had never sold, so when the two returned, Barbra Jean moved in there, and Brock moved into his equally un-sold condo.

"Hey, Barbra Jean," Reba replied, getting out two bowls from the cabinet. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing." She flopped down at the counter and put her chin in her hand. "Brock's got Henry tonight."

"You bored, too?"

"Out of my ever loving mind. Wanna go catch a movie or something?"

Reba shook her head. "Thanks but no thanks. I'm just going to have a bowl of ice cream and go to bed."

"Go to bed? It's seven thirteen."

Reba shrugged and dished out ice cream for the two, shoving Barbra Jean's bowl to her.

"I have to work tomorrow. I need my rest."

Barbra Jean began eating her ice cream as Reba ate hers while standing on the other side of the counter.

"Do you realize how old that sounded?"

"I am old."

Barbra Jean rolled her eyes. "You are not."

"Fifty-five is old, Barbra Jean."

"It is not. It's mid-life."

"How many people do you know who are a hundred?"

"Plenty."

Reba shook her head. "No. I'm not going to the movies. There's not even any good ones out there."

"We don't have to go see a movie, then. Let's go to a bar."

"What kind of business do I have in a bar?"

"I need a man." She sat back in her seat, a kind of pouty look on her face. "Being single isn't any fun."

"I've done it for twelve years. You get used to it."

Barbra Jean rolled her eyes but then looked up to her friend. "I have a brilliant idea."

"Oh, no…"

"Oh, yes! Go get dressed! We're going out!" She hopped out of her seat and pulled on Reba's arm, trying to get her out of the kitchen and up to her closet.

"Barbra Jean, I do not want to leave this house."

"But, Reba, you're so boring. We have to find you a man!"

"I don't want a man." She jerked her arm away. "I'm perfectly content with living here alone."

"That's a lie."

"It is not."

"Is, too. I happen to know that you talk to your azaleas out back."

"There's nobody else to talk to!"

"Right! You need a boyfriend!"

"No."

Reba knew Barbra Jean would keep going on and on, but she was not about to give in this time. She truly believed her time in the dating world was over. She'd already accepted it and she wished Barbra Jean would, too.

"Don't you get lonely?" Barbra Jean asked after a minute.

"Of course I do."

"Then why not try dating? You could find your soul mate and the two of you could have a big wedding and I could be your maid of honor and you would look so beautiful in your dress and we could have that awesome bakery do the cake and-"

"Barbra Jean, stop." She sighed. She hadn't really wanted to tell anyone of her plans just yet, but if it would shut Barbra Jean up about getting a boyfriend, she would have to. "It's not just that I don't want a boyfriend, I can't."

Barbra Jean had a confused look on her face. "Is there something I should know about you…?"

Reba rolled her eyes, placing her empty bowl in the sink, slowly rinsing it before meeting Barbra Jean's eyes.

"I'm moving home. To Oklahoma."

The blonde was silent for a moment. Reba could see the bewilderment plastered all over her face.

"Oklahoma?"

Reba nodded. "Yes. To live with Mama and Daddy."

"But why? What's wrong with Houston?"

Reba sighed and slowly sauntered over to the table where she gently sat down, hands in her lap. "That part of my life is over. There's nothing left for me here. Brock and I divorced twelve years ago, Cheyenne and Van and the kids never visit, and Kyra and Jake are doing their own thing. Nobody really needs me here anymore. I sit in this big ol' house day after day just thinking about how alone I am and it's really getting to me. I want to go back to Oklahoma. I need to."

Barbra Jean sank back into her seat. "But all the way to Oklahoma?"

"Barbra Jean, I didn't even plan on telling you tonight, so please don't make me regret this."

"I won't."

The room was silent for a moment and Reba hated that. She truly thought of Barbra Jean as a close friend, if not one of her best friends, and she didn't want to hurt her. That was the last thing she ever wanted to do. But Barbra Jean was hurt whether she chose to show it or not.

"When will you go?" She asked after awhile.

"A few months. I want to tell the kids in person, so I'm going to wait until Thanksgiving. They have to come visit me then, right?" She tried to chuckle, to show Barbra Jean it was a joke, but the blonde didn't smile like she would have usually done. Instead she nodded in agreement.

"I'll miss you," She finally said.

Reba stood from the table. "Well, I know that." She gave a sad smile. "I'll miss you, too, Barbra Jean. You'll have to come visit."

"Duh."

Reba smiled and Barbra Jean stood so the two could hug.

"I'm not leaving tomorrow," Reba said after Barbra Jean had made the hug terribly awkward, not letting go after a moment or two. "You can let me go now."

Barbra Jean pulled away, sniffling, and Reba couldn't help but feel tears well up in her eyes as well.

"Don't make me cry!" She exclaimed, dabbing at the corners of her eye with her hand, turning away. "You'll make my makeup smear."

Barbra Jean shook her head. "I never thought you'd be the last one to leave."

Reba exhaled a long breath. She hadn't either. She had never planned for her marriage to go up in smoke or her children to move so far away, leaving her all alone. Like any other woman, she had wanted the picture-perfect marriage and beautiful children who, when they grew up, would live just down the street and come over for dinner every night. Things certainly didn't go the way she planned them.

"Well, Barbra Jean, God knows what's best. Everything that's happened has happened for a reason."

"I guess so…"

The two stood in the kitchen without speaking before Reba motioned Barbra Jean to come into the living room so Reba could lock the back door and prepare for bed.

"You'll call me, right?" Barbra Jean asked as Reba began folding up the fleece blanket that she had been using.

"Again, I'm not leaving tomorrow, but yes."

"Everyday?"

"Everyday."

"How are you gonna tell Brock?"

Reba didn't answer right away. She didn't really know for sure. She knew she would have to tell him separately from the kids, simply because he was her best friend, and had been for thirty years. He knew her more than she knew her self and vice versa. She knew that leaving him so permanently wouldn't be easy, but she figured she'd somehow make it through.

"I'll figure something out," She finally said.

"You know he'll try to talk you out of it."

"I know."

"He'll come up with fifteen different solutions to your loneliness."

"I know."

"He'll probably cry."

"I know."

"You know he has a girlfriend, right?"

"I kno- What?" Reba looked up from straightening the coffee table.

Barbra Jean was nodding. "Yeah. I've never met her, though."

"What's her name?"

"I don't know."

"Where'd they meet?"

"I don't know."

"How old is she?"

"I don't know."

"Barbra Jean, what do you know?"

"That he has a girlfriend."

Reba rolled her eyes, going back to her chore. What did she care if Brock had some floozy wrapped around his arm now? Nothing different than twelve years ago. Typical Brock. Going on sixty and still having to have a woman around to keep his reputation at the golf course and around his buddies up.

"I bet she's just some hussy."

"Reba!"

"Well."

"I've never heard you talk like that."

"Yeah, so?"

"Just that. Why so defensive all of a sudden?"

"I'm not getting defensive. All I'm saying is he's been known to pick some…strange women to be with."

"You should talk. He chose you first."

"I don't mean me, you moron. Anyway, if you ever see her or anything, let me know."

Barbra Jean cracked a smile. "Why do you care?"

"I don't. I'm curious is all."

"Liar."

"What other reason would I have for wanting to know?"

"I don't know. That's what I'm trying to figure out."

"There's nothing to figure out. I'm simply curious, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay."

**New story! I'm super excited about this one! Review? (:**


	2. Chapter 2

It had seemed like a good idea at first, although she wasn't sure why she thought it was a good idea. When she pulled in the driveway of Brock's condo at ten o'clock that night, she was beginning to second guess her decision. After Barbra Jean had gone on home, Reba sat up in her bedroom thinking about why she felt odd about Brock having a girlfriend. She hadn't felt this way even when he first got together with Barbra Jean, so why was she feeling this way now?

The lights in his condo were off except for one upstairs. She assumed it was his bedroom and he was still awake. But what had she come here for? To catch him with some slutty girl? Who was she to say what he could and couldn't do?

Slowly, she walked up to the front door and knocked lightly, halfway hoping he wouldn't answer. But a minute later, he did.

"Reba. What are you doing here?"

She shrugged, noticing his hair had more gray in it. That was when she realized she hadn't seen him since Jake's graduation. He had aged noticeably in those four short months.

"Just came over to say hi," She responded. "Are you busy? Are you alone? Should I come back later?"

"Uh...I'm not alone. Is there something wrong?"

Her cheeks flushed red and she avoided his eyes. Shaking her head, she responded, "Nope. Nothing wrong. Just thought I'd drop by. Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, it's been a few months. Do you want to have lunch sometime or something?"

She shook her head, embarrassed to no end that she had actually come to his house while he was with his girlfriend.

"No, that's alright. I know you're busy." She began walking backwards, towards her car. "I'll talk to you later." She turned around and proceeded to take long strides to the driveway where she promptly got in her car and drove away.

_You're crazy_, she told herself as she drove home._ You've finally gone off the deep end. What business do you have over there? None. None whatsoever. Why do you care what he does?_

Deep down she knew it was because the fences hadn't been fully mended with him and she was about to leave the life she had once known to go to Oklahoma. She didn't want any bad air left between them, but she wondered how she would even let him know she was leaving. It wouldn't be an easy thing to do. He had been her whole world for so long, and even though she knew she was over him as a husband, he was her very best friend and she hated to hurt him.

**xXx**

Ford Stokely was a lawyer with the ability to get anybody to do what he wanted when he wanted, and every time he came into the office to discuss contracts with Mr. McKenzie, Reba found herself being very willing to let him tell her what to do no matter what it was. She thought he was the best thing since sliced bread. He was the finest fifty-year-old man who had graying chocolate brown hair and bright green eyes. Every time he'd walk by Reba's desk, he left the scent of his cologne tagging along behind him.

Reba watched him from her desk as he stood by the copier, talking to another Realtor. If Barbra Jean ever found out she had a crush on this guy, she would immediately assume the role of matchmaker and that was not at all what Reba wanted. She was content with speaking to Ford here and there and getting to smell his cologne without being noticed. She didn't need him to be with her. He was probably married, anyway, and that was certainly not anything Reba wanted to get involved with.

Ford's conversation with the other Realtor ended and Reba noticed him walking her way. It really lit up her day when she got to talk to him. She was like a giddy high-school girl.

"Hey, Reba," He said as he passed her desk.

"Hi, Ford." She smiled and turned in her swivel chair and watched him walk on down the hall, that cute little butt of his her main focus.

As he walked around the corner, she sank into her chair, her chin in her hand. If she couldn't be with him, she at least wanted him to show some kind of interest in her. With Barbra Jean's comment about her age the night before, she couldn't help but feel a bit self conscious. It had been years since a man told her she was beautiful. Things like that preyed upon a person's mind and usually, they never went away. She was still human with human feelings, but more so than that, a woman with woman feelings.

She found herself thinking that Barbra Jean may be right about her getting a man. What would be the harm in trying to go after Ford? She was leaving for Oklahoma within the year, and she figured that one last ditch effort couldn't hurt her any. The worst he could say was no.

Jumping out of her chair, she rushed after Ford and followed him straight out into the parking lot.

"Hey, Ford!" She called as she hurried up to him.

He spun around, and smiled at her. "Reba. Is there something I can do for you?"

Her knees went weak as she looked at that smile. It made her smile right back, some of her nerves disappearing with the wind that whipped around them both.

"I hope so," She said. "I was wondering if you were busy tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, tapping a few buttons before responding with, "No, I'm free tomorrow. Why?"

"Would you like to meet me somewhere for dinner? I realize how out of the blue this question is, but I was just curious."

"You mean like a date?"

"If you want it to be."

He smiled. "I'd love to."

"Really?"

He laughed and Reba blushed. She hardly realized how enthusiastic she sounded, but Ford was amused. He nodded and said, "Yes, really. Where did you want to meet?"

"How about Gravitas? Seven o'clock?"

"Sounds great. Let me give you my number in case something comes up."

The two exchanged numbers and chatted a minute before Ford said he had to get going. Reba waved goodbye before he drove off, and did a little happy dance in the parking lot as she watched his truck's taillights fade.

As she walked back into the building, she found herself wondering if he could be _the_ one. The person who was supposed to keep her from moving to Oklahoma and spend the rest of his life with her. She knew it was a long shot, but she figured why not? If she didn't at least see, she knew she'd regret it and always have that 'what if' feeling. She wasn't one for jumping in head first, but times were changing and she figured she'd better learn to go with it.

**xXx**

The fitted red dress Reba chose to wear was really starting to bug her. As soon as she sat down at the table Ford had reserved for them, the place where the tag was sewn in began tickling the back of her neck.

When Ford saw her walk up, he stood and pulled her chair out for her.

"Thank you," She said, trying to subtly rip the tag off the dress as she sat down.

"You look great," He told her, sitting down himself. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. Ready to get home and get this dress off, though."

"Well, gosh, we don't know each other that well yet. I'm not opposing, however." He winked and she had to laugh.

"I didn't mean it like that! This tag is bothering the heck out of me."

"Want me to see if I can get it off?"

She stopped and raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Turn around."

She turned in her seat and pulled her hair over her shoulder as Ford stood and flipped the tag over. As he did so, his fingers brushed the back of her neck, sending chills down her arms. After he tugged on it a moment, he handed her the removed tag.

"There ya go."

She took it, turning around in her seat and smiled. "Thank you."

"No problem. Now, shall we order?"

The mood he was setting put Reba at ease. She felt so much more confident about the fact that she had asked him to go on this little outing. She just hoped he'd ask the next time.

As the evening went on, she learned more and more about him. He had been married before but his wife had passed away after a lost battle with cancer. He had one son who was Jake's age and in college. Reba told him of her divorce and the odd relationship between her and Barbra Jean. He didn't run away screaming, so she took that as a good sign.

"So what do you like to do in your spare time?" He asked after all the talk of divorce and his wife's passing was over.

"I read a lot," She told him. "Classics mostly. What about you?"

"Well, I don't get a lot of free time except for on the weekends, but that's when I like to shoot skeet."

"Shoot what?"

"Skeet. It's where you shoot these little clay disks that are flung into the air at a high speed. It's really fun. We should go sometime."

The possibility of another date with Ford made her smile with a nod. "I'd love to!"

"Great. I bet you'll like it. I've played it all my life. Even when I was a kid growing up in Oklahoma."

"You're from Oklahoma? So am I!"

"I can tell by your accent."

"Most people can." She laughed. "But you don't have an accent."

"I've worked very hard on that."

She rolled her eyes with a smile. "I never would have guessed."

"I figured I'd tell you since you were from the same place. It's not something I like to let people know."

"Why?"

"I've been called a back-roads hick my whole life. That's part of the reason I became a lawyer. I wanted to shed that image. I guess if the simple ways of farm life hadn't been forced on me when I was a kid, I wouldn't have rebelled so much. I prefer the city. That's why I'm here in Houston."

"Oh. Makes sense. But I've never minded being an Okie. I've never known anything different. In fact, I'm thinking about moving back there."

"I'm sorry to hear that. To tell you the truth, I've enjoyed being around the Real Estate firm because I get to talk to you from time to time."

"Well, thanks. I enjoy talking to you as well."

"When are you moving?"

"Within the year. I'm going to try and find a place close to my parents' ranch."

"You're a ranching family?"

"Yes, sir. And rodeo cowboys. You said you guys were farmers?"

"Something like that." He laughed. "We had a dairy farm."

"Oh, boy, I bet that was a lot of work."

"I wish I could say I didn't mind it, but that'd be a lie and as a lawyer, I try to keep my lying to a minimum."

The flirty banter continued for the next half hour or so. Reba couldn't believe that this man she'd had a crush on for so long was from Oklahoma. He was attractive but that was just the icing on the cake. She really enjoyed his personality and the way he listened to what she had to say. Most other men she had gone on dates with preferred to talk about only themselves, cutting her off whenever she tried to get a word in. Ford was the exact opposite. More than once, he asked her to tell him more about herself. It was only when she refused to keep going that she learned more about him.

The man before her was one she had observed for quite some time. The fact that she was getting to know him was the best thing that had happened to her in a while. She'd surely thank God for the opportunity before bed that night.

She had been laughing about some story of his when she became aware that she had been at the restaurant for quite some time. She glanced at her phone, which was lying in her lap, and found that it was nearing nine o'clock.

"It's getting awful late," She said when he finished his story and she finished laughing uncontrollably.

With a big grin still on his face, he nodded, checking his Rolex. "It sure is."

Looking behind her, Reba found that the place wasn't as full as when they had arrived. However, a couple was walking in, apparently grabbing a late dinner. As she looked closer, she saw that she knew them. The man, rather. It was Brock. The woman, who had long dark hair, wore a tiny black dress and stilettos. She looked considerably younger than her fifty-eight year old ex-husband. Reba doubted that she was even in her thirties.

She watched as the hostess sat the two at a table across the room and handed them their menus. The woman, leaned across the table to get closer to Brock who wore that sideways grin of his. Reba watched them even though she knew what would happen next. Her and Brock had done the same when they were married. Brock would lean closer to her and smile that smile before gently kissing her lips. He'd reach up to touch her cheek and pull away, twirling her hair around his finger before leaning back in his chair and picking up the liquor menu. And that's exactly what he did.

She felt sick to her stomach as she turned back to Ford, who had been watching the same thing she had been.

"Do you know them?" He asked as Reba gathered her purse up.

"That's my ex."

"Oh."

"With his new girlfriend." She glanced at them once more and immediately wished she hadn't. As soon as she looked that way, Brock did the same. Their eyes locked for a moment before Reba looked away. She hurriedly got up and walked outside, Ford going after her, wondering why she left so abruptly.

**xXx**

"What are you looking at?"

Brock tore his eyes away from Reba and turned back to the woman sitting across from him.

"Nothing."

"Whatever. Who was she?"

"My ex."

"Which one?"

"The first one."

"Oh. The redhead. She's cute."

He was smart enough to not agree even though he wanted to. She was more than cute. She was downright gorgeous. He found himself wondering who her Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome was, and he might have even been a little jealous. Whoever that guy was, was obviously younger than he.

"Where are we going after this?"

Brock sighed. "Home, I guess."

"Are we going to go get Henry?"

"Yeah."

She raised an eyebrow, peeking over her menu. "You're being really weird tonight."

"I'm sorry. Long day."

She put down her menu, a playful smile gracing her red lips. "You should really let me relieve some of your tension for you when we get home."

Brock smiled a half smile. "You're the boss."

"Of course I am." She winked and Brock found himself wondering if seeing Reba in the restaurant was about to interfere with his plans.

**xXx**

"And there he was - making out with one of the Kardashian sisters in the middle of Gravitas. They might as well have climbed on the tabletop."

Barbra Jean listened to Reba tell her about seeing Brock the night before with wide eyes.

"What did she look like?" The blonde asked, putting her chin in her hands.

Reba rolled her eyes, remembering the woman as she loaded the dishwasher.

"She was wearing this skanky-looking dress. It looked like they had gone clubbing. And her shoes had a five inch heel, I bet you." She shook her head. "Honestly, I credit him with better taste."

Barbra Jean bit her lip, shaking her head as well. "Was she young?"

"Fresh out of high-school."

"That man, I swear...what is his problem? Doesn't he realize he's got one foot in the grave and another on a banana peel? He's old and he keeps dating these girls who are young enough to be his daughter? What's up with that?"

"I don't know, but it doesn't make him look very good, if you ask me."

Barbra Jean nodded, thinking. "You know," She finally said. "You never explained what _you_ were doing in Gravitas last night."

Reba stopped loading the dishwasher and sighed.

_Crrrraaaaaaappppp..._

"I was just having dinner," She responded, trying to stay cool.

Barbra Jean perked up, pointing at her. "You were not! You were there with somebody! Who was it?"

"Barbra Jean, I was there alone."

"You are the world's worst liar, Reba. Give it up. Who were you there with?"

Reba sighed, closing the dishwasher and starting it, backing up to lean against the stove with folded arms.

"Just a guy that works with my boss, alright?"

"What's his name? Is he cute?"

"His name is Ford Stokely and yes, he's cute."

Barbra Jean squealed and clasped her hands together. "EEEEE! I knew you had a date! What's he look like?"

"He...well...hang on." She pulled her phone from her pocket and selected the camera option. She located the picture the two had taken last night. "Here."

Barbra Jean looked at the photo and wiggled her eyebrows. "Ooh la la. He's adorable."

"I know, right? He's a lawyer from Oklahoma."

"You've met your soul-mate."

Reba took her phone back. "Oh, I don't know about that. He's just a guy I'm dating right now, alright? No long-term anything yet. He even knows about me moving back home."

"You told him?"

"Yes. I wanted to be upfront about it."

"I guess..."

"Yeah."

"So, is he a good kisser?"

"We haven't kissed yet! We've had one date!"

"Would you get with it, already? You can kiss on the first date, Reba, along with other things."

"Oh, no way. There's none of that going on."

"Well, by the looks of him, he'll be good at both. You let me know."

"Absolutely not. Now, if you'll excuse me," She went and opened the back door. "I have chores to do. I'll call you later."

"You better." Barbra Jean headed towards the door. "Or I'll come back over here."

Reba rolled her eyes and shut the door, leaning against it. She had left out the part where she ran from the restaurant in near tears out of her story. She didn't understand why her emotions had gone from laughter to tears so quickly. It frustrated her, as it had been happening more and more lately. There was no reason for her to cry over Brock anymore. Who cares if he had a girlfriend now?

_I do..._

**xXx**

**Sorry for not posting for a few days. I got caught up with work and such. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and thanks for all the reviews for the first one! Oh, and Ford is an original character. Don't steal him. (;**


	3. Chapter 3

_He felt her hands run down his chest as she collapsed atop his body. He rested his hands on her back, holding her as close to him as he could. He could feel her heavy breathing die down as she sighed, coming down off the high he had brought her to. A moment later, he rolled them over, trapping her beneath him and capturing her lips with his own. _

"_I love you," He told her, pulling away._

_She smiled sleepily. "I love you, too."_

_His hand touched her hip, running down her leg, and wrapping it around his waist. He moved his lips to her neck, breathing in her scent before kissing her there… _

"Brock. Brock. Hey."

He was brought out of his daydream and looked up to see Ari snapping her fingers in front of his face.

"Sorry," He said, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "What?"

"You're creeping me out just sitting there and staring off into space. What's going on?" She flopped down on the couch next to him, curling up and wrapping her arms around him.

"Just thinking."

Ever since he had seen Reba in Gravitas the night before, he couldn't get the flashbacks out of his head. He kept remembering every time he had ever made love to her. It was taking over his mind and more than once, his body. It had been years since she had affected him in that way, so he didn't understand the sudden memory flood.

He realized he needed to go see her, talk to her, something. Obviously, something was just not the way it should be. She shouldn't be invading his fantasies anymore. That was over and done with, and he was one hundred percent convinced he had moved on. He had a wonderful girlfriend in Ari and he was not about to mess that up. He wasn't getting any younger and he made the decision that he was not going to be alone. He wanted someone by his side, and Ari was as good as any.

"I think I'm going to go for a drive," He said, standing from the couch, Ari falling a bit.

"I'll come with you."

"No, that's alright. I won't be long."

He double checked that his keys were in his pocket and walked out to his truck, wondering what he would say when he saw the woman that he hadn't really talked to for the better part of one year.

**xXx**

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright, you know."

Reba smiled at Ford's absolute sweet voice through the phone, checking on her the morning after their date. She had shut down the conversation pretty quickly after she had rushed out to her car.

"Thank you," She told him. "I'm fine now. It's just I hadn't seen Bro- my ex in a year and it was startling."

"I understand completely."

She smiled, leaning against the kitchen counter. "I really appreciate you not running off like I was some crazy woman."

"Nah. I'm not a very judgmental person."

"Well, I appreciate that, Ford, I really do."

"No problem. I actually wanted to know if you wanted to go out again."

"Really?"

"You seem to be surprised at everything I say. You say _really _a lot."

She giggled. "I do, don't I?"

"It's cute."

Her smile widened as she heard those words. She hadn't had a man call her cute, beautiful, pretty, or anything of the sort in so long. It was so foreign, but she wasn't complaining.

"Thank you," She told him, glancing down at the floor, her face going red.

"So, about another outing…"

"I'd love to!"

Just as she said those words, she heard a knock at her back door, thinking it was Barbra Jean, she poked her head around the corner to wave her in, but nearly fell over when she saw Brock standing there.

She gasped lightly into the phone, causing Ford to ask if everything was okay.

"Yeah," She told him. "Um…can I call you back in a little while?"

"I guess…"

"Okay. Thank you. Everything's fine. I'll talk to you later."

She hung up and held the phone to her chest, biting her lip as she watched Brock wave lamely through the window.

Then, before she did something she knew she'd regret later, she turned on her heel and left the kitchen, leaving Brock outside. She knew the door was locked and he couldn't get in that way or through the front. There were several things she had to think over before she got started talking to a man that she nearly fell over after seeing with another woman. Until she got all her feelings in line, she figured it would be best to avoid him. Knowing herself, she'd get mixed up and say something wrong. That always happened when she wasn't really sure what her heart was feeling.

It was puzzling, though. She hadn't felt that jealous even when Brock was with Barbra Jean. What was with her this time around?

**Short, yes, but I noticed that this plot is similar to another on this site, so I want to take a little more time to make it different. I might also go ahead and do that one-shot sonfic I was talking about before. So, review and let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

Brock glanced around with a baffled look on his face. Surely, there was a burglar in the house and she had gone to hide. That was the most sensible solution to the issue at hand. There was no way she'd just ignore him.

He knocked again, hoping to see her come back into the kitchen to unlock the door. Several minutes passed and she still did not return.

_What is going on with her, _he wondered, kneeling down to move the brick that was lying on the step to reveal the key that would unlock the back door. He had put that key there when they first moved into the house, many people using it over the years, always remembering to put it back in its proper place. It made him smile to know that Reba still had it there.

Quietly, he slipped in the house, closing the door gently behind him. He briefly looked around the space. It was very lonely. The place was spotless. The floors had swept and mopped, the counters had been washed with a pile of clean dishes lying on a towel beside the sink. The plants on the windowsill had been arranged just so with neatness in mind, the placemats sat at the table waiting for someone, anyone, to use them.

Escaping into the living room, he noticed that it was spotless as well. Sighing, he walked up the stairs and stopped outside the room that he once shared with Reba. He knocked gently.

A moment later, she opened the door and he could see that her face was red.

_Has she been crying?_

"Hi," She said softly, not looking at him.

"Hi," He responded. "Why did you leave me outside?" He chuckled but she did not return it.

"I didn't want to talk to you, but thanks for coming in anyway." She turned to walk into her room, leaving the door open so he could walk in after her. Which he did.

"If you didn't want to talk to me, why did you come over the other night?"

"I changed my mind, okay? Am I allowed to do that?" She began picking up her bedroom, which really didn't need picking up in the first place. Brock figured she was just looking for an excuse to not to look at him.

He wasn't a hundred percent sure why she was ticked at him, but he figured he'd find out soon enough.

"Well, since you never called me or anything like that," He said. "I figured I'd drop by and see how you were."

"I'm perfectly fine, Brock, thank you."

"You don't seem fine."

"Well, I am."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"That depends."

"Why did you come to my condo the other night?"

She stopped rearranging her nightstand and sighed. "I hadn't talked to you in a year, Brock."

"Four months."

She spun around. "Four months, my foot! We _saw_ each other at Jake's graduation four months ago, we didn't speak."

"And that's the only reason you came over?"

"What other reason would I have?"

"It wasn't to get a glimpse of Ari, was it?"

Reba stopped arranging once again, sitting on the edge of her bed. "So, that's her name?"

He nodded, sitting down beside her. "Yeah. And she wouldn't be very happy if she knew I was in another woman's bedroom right now." He placed his hands in his lap, a smile gracing his lips. "You came over to check her out, huh? Make sure she was good enough, if she was better than you?"

"No."

"Reba, I know you. I know how you work. I know your little schemes."

"I do not scheme." She stood from the bed. "So what if I was trying to see what she was all about?"

"I'm just trying to show you that you can't fool me. And please don't get all weird now."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I know exactly what you're thinking."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"This: he's a fifty-eight year old man with a twenty-year old girlfriend. Somebody left the doors to the daycare open a little too long." Reba rolled her eyes as Brock said, "Something along those lines."

"Whatever."

"You just hate the fact that I'm happy."

"_That_ makes you happy?"

"_She_ makes me happy, yes."

Reba stood up tall. "Alright, then. Go be happy with her."

**xXx**

**_Eight months later…_**

"I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm crazy. This is crazy. I can't do it. This is ridiculous, pointless, stupid, a big mistake."

"Reba, for the love of God, calm down."

Sighing, Reba sat down on the edge of her bed, bent over with her head in her hands. "What if it's wrong, Barbra Jean? What if it's not what's supposed to happen?"

Barbra Jen knelt in front of her friend, trying to ignore all the packed boxes around the room. "Do you want to go through with it?"

Reba slowly lifted her head. "Yeah."

"Then why all the doubts?"

"I'm scared!"

Barbra Jean sighed. "Reba, you know Ford loves you."

"Yes."

"Do you love him?"

"Of course."

"Do you want to marry him?"

"Yes."

"Then get out there and marry him!"

Reba held up her left hand where I giant engagement ring sat. "Do you see this? Do you? It means no turning back!"

"Do you think you'll want to turn back?"

"I don't know. It's just-"

Before she could finish, there was a knock on the door. Reba told whoever to come in as Barbra Jean stood.

"Hey," Ford said, walking in. "What are you two doing?"

"You're not supposed to see me!" Reba yelled, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at his face.

He dodged the pillow by ducking and rolled his eyes. "I know what you look like, Reba."

"It's bad luck."

He looked at Barbra Jean. "Can I talk to her for a minute, alone?"

Barbra Jean left the room, closing the door behind her, and Ford turned to Reba.

"Are you alright? You don't look so good."

"I'm fine."

"Everybody's waiting downstairs." He grabbed her hand and she reluctantly stood.

Ford observed her for a moment. She wore an off white gown with a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt. Flowers were scattered throughout her hair, which was up, instead of a veil. He thought she was absolutely beautiful and he couldn't help but notice how amazing his ring looked on her finger. He couldn't wait to give her the other one.

"I know," She responded.

"You ready to marry me?"

She smiled, finally able to, and looked up at him, seeing all the love he had for her in his eyes. Nodding, she said, "Yes, I am."

He smiled and leaned forward to bring her into a kiss. When they pulled away, Reba didn't let him go too far before she tugged him back to her, laying her head on his chest as her arms went around his middle.

"Ready to start our beautiful life?" He whispered, holding her close.

After eight months, Reba had finally convinced herself he was the one she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with. Brock might have been the one for her years ago, but Ford was her soul mate now. And that was all that really mattered. She forgot about all the hurt Brock had caused her, including their last conversation which had happened steps away from where she stood with Ford. She jumped headfirst into Ford's arms and loved him with all her might. He was a good man, an honest man. Her daddy absolutely loved him.

"I'm ready."


	5. Chapter 5

The vows had been spoken and the couple left the altar, or the front of the living room, rather, as Mr. and Mrs. Ford Stokely. Everyone clapped and whooped and hollered when they first kissed as husband and wife. The two posed for pictures on the staircase and in the front yard before the cake was served, everybody mingling with each other.

Upstairs in her bedroom, Reba changed into a shorter dress for the reception, Ford shedding his tuxedo jacket as well.

"You ready to get home?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind as she spritzed perfume on her wrists.

"Home?" She asked, looking at him through the mirror in her vanity. "The reception just got started."

"I know." He kissed her neck. "I'm just ready to finally be together, just the two of us."

She nodded, understanding what he meant. As soon as they had announced their engagement, all the kids had suddenly started visiting more. They were rarely alone and it was beginning to get on Reba's nerves. Just a few short months before, she was damn near depressed from loneliness, but now she just wished everybody would give her some breathing room.

"It'll be hard to leave this house, though," She said, turning to look at her packed room, boxes scattered here and there.

"Why? We'll make new memories in our new house."

She turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck, overwhelmed with happiness that her night in shining armour, for a lack of a better word, had been found, and he would stop at nothing to make her happy.

"I know." She gave him a kiss.

"You know I love you," He said, rubbing her cheek with his thumb.

"Yes."

"Good. I never want you to forget that. I never want you to question that. This won't end like the other ones, okay? Do you trust me?"

"I trust you. I promise. That's why I married you."

"Okay." He kissed her lips this time, holding her close to him a second more before turning and grabbing her hand to walk downstairs where everyone was waiting for them.

**xXx**

After a few hours of catching up with old friends and talking to her children, whom she had missed so much, Reba scampered off into the kitchen for a moment's peace and a glass of wine. She nearly jumped right out of her skin, however, when she saw a shadow appear at the back door. It wasn't completely dark yet, so she could tell who it was. And she wasn't sure how she felt about him being there.

Reluctantly, she unlocked the backdoor and Brock stepped in.

"Hi," He said.

"Hi," She responded, dowing her wine. "Need something?"

He shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "I probably shouldn't be here."

"Probably not. Ari wouldn't like it."

He rolled his eyes. "How come you didn't tell me you were getting married? I didn't even know you were engaged until I called Jake and found out he was in town."

"I wasn't aware I had to let you in on anything that goes on in my life anymore. You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend."

"Would you have wanted me to?"

"What would it have mattered?"

"Exactly."

"You just answered your own question. Is there anything else you need? I'm kind of busy, if you hadn't noticed."

"Sorry. I just wanted to drop by and tell you congratulations and all that. You look beautiful, by the way."

She set her wine glass down on the counter, folding her arms. "Thank you." "You're welcome. Barbra Jean here?"

Reba nodded. "She's in the living room with everybody else."

"With Henry?"

"He's running around here somewhere with Elizabeth, I'd imagine."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

The conversation became so slow so suddenly as well as awkward.

"Well, I better get back in there with Ford-"

"You're selling the house?"

"Do what?"

"You're selling the house? This house?"

"Yes."

"I just now noticed that the kitchen is pretty much empty." He tried to chuckle. "I guess you've moved in with…Ford? Is that his name?"

"Ford Stokely, yes."

"Reba Stokely… Sounds funny."

She rolled her eyes, not even bothering to respond to his comment about her name.

"Anyway…" She said with a hint of an annoyed tone. "Was there anything else you needed? I really should get back in there." "Nope. I can tell I'm not really needed or wanted here."

"Brock, quit being a dramatic five-year-old."

He held his hands up. "Sorry. I'm leaving. Have a nice night, marriage, relationship, year, whatever. I'll see ya when I see ya." He began backing towards the door with that sideways grin Reba always found so attractive. "I love ya, Red."

"Love you, too, ya big idiot."

**xXx**

That night, her and Ford spent the night at one of Houston's finest hotels. Thoughts of Brock left Reba's mind and she focused on her new husband, determined to make this relationship work. She had to admit, she had felt a little apprehensive about jumping headfirst into a second marriage, but there was nothing bad about Ford that she could see. He was giving, considerate, hard-headed at times, loved with all his heart, mind, soul and body, and never, ever took anything he had for granted. He was trying to shed his countrified Oklahoma image, but Reba still saw that manly southern gentleman in him, and she hoped that that would never go away.

She fell asleep to him humming quietly to her in the dark room, curled up next to him, and wondering if this was what God had planned for Heaven. If not, this was pretty close.

"Brock, you idiot."

The tanned blonde man turned his head to look at Reba who stood behind him.

"What?" He asked innocently, revving his motorcycle loudly in her driveway.

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, not responding but waiting for her to continue.

"It's eight o'clock in the morning and you're sitting here revving your engine in my driveway? You'd better be happy Ford isn't here or he'd come out here and whip your butt."

"I thought you might like to go for a ride." He grinned. "Come on. Just one ride."

"No. Get out of my driveway." She turned around to walk back into the house, embarrassed she had come all the way out there in her bath-robe. "And you're gonna reimburse me for that oil stain you just left." She stooped down to pick up the paper that the papery-boy had thrown in the yard before turning around, "And another thing-"

But before she could finish, she saw Brock back out of her driveway without looking. What he didn't see was a dump-truck hauling ass down the street. Reba watched in horror as the two collided.

**xXx**

"Reba. Reba, wake up."

Gasping, Reba opened her eyes, sitting up and looking around the dark hotel room. She put a hand to her head, trying to figure out what was going on. She was somewhat disoriented and tremendously hot.

"Bad dream," She whispered to Ford, who was sitting up as well, trying to hold on to her to comfort her.

Pushing him away, she apologized. "I'm hot. Sorry."

"Hot flashes again?"

"Yeah."

She leaned over with her head in her hands, the cool air of the hotel room hitting her bare back while cursing menopause with her whole being.

She had been having those nightmares about Brock dying ever since she met Ford. They were very frustrating and put thoughts into her head that she didn't want to think about. Thoughts that concerned her still having feelings for him. She knew she did, she just didn't want them to become any more extensive than she feared they might be. She needed to keep him at bay if she wanted this marriage to Ford to work. Which she wanted more than anything.

"You alright now?" He asked from his side of the bed.

"Yeah, I'm okay. It was just a bad dream." She laid back down, settling into her pillow.

He laid down next to her, his arm wrapping around her middle. She instantly became hotter at the skin on skin contact. It made her temper rise and her patience wear thin.

Taking hold of his hand, she moved it away from her. "I'm boiling. Don't touch me right now."

"Sorry."

"I don't mean to sound like a bitch, but I can't handle it."

"I understand."

"Alright. Thank you."

A second later, she felt him shift in the bed and lean over to kiss her briefly. She returned the kiss with an _I love you _before closing her eyes, praying the dreams would cease.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thoughts are in Italics. (:**

The flashbacks from her honeymoon night's dream ran through Reba's head the next few weeks as she walked into her office. Visions of Brock being flung to the pavement after being hit by the truck were vivid in her mind. They made her sick just to know her own brain was thinking it up, but she couldn't figure out how to get rid of the horrible images. She had read somewhere once that dreams just reflected what a person was worrying about.

_That's ridiculous. I'm not worried about Brock dying._

Just as she walked through the office doors, her phone went off. Checking the caller ID as she flicked the light-switch on, she noticed it was Ford. She answered it as she continued getting the place ready for the work day.

"Hello?"

"Hey, I just wanted to remind you about that banquet later. I forgot to run it by you before you left this morning."

"I remember."

"Okay. Just making sure."

"Thanks. Are you coming in later?"

"Not today. I think I'll work from my office here at the house."

"Alright. I'll see you when I get home, then."

She felt a bit down because he wasn't coming in later. He had been working from home more and more since they got married. She thought it might be fun for them to ride to work together and come home together every once in awhile, but Ford apparently didn't think so. Granted, she had never really asked him, but she figured he should bring it up.

_Whatever. Let him work from home. Let him be there all by himself while I'm here._

And she instantly became pissed off.

Thinking back, she remembered that she had forgotten to take her medication that morning, making her menopause symptoms go through the roof. She sighed at the thought as she flopped down at her desk, head in her hands and ready to rip her jacket off. The hot flashes were really getting to her.

**xXx**

Seeing her again after so long, Brock found that Reba preyed upon his mind more often that he'd like. The last time he had talked to her was at her wedding, and that was two weeks ago. After twelve years, he was a hundred and ten percent sure he had moved on as much as he could. He had gotten rid of most of the flashbacks in his head, gave his wedding band back to Reba for her to do with it as she pleased, and all in all, he had stopped thinking of her as his wife.

For the first seven years after the divorce, he had talked to her everyday and spent a lot of time at her house with the kids and he had even stayed for dinner numerous times. He had never wanted her this bad, though. It was like she was the forbidden fruit on the tree in the garden. He could look and admire, but oh, if he was to touch, it would come back to haunt him.

It was confusing, though. Was what he felt love or lust? If only he had the balls to go talk to her, he might could figure it out.

But it was inappropriate now that she was married. Come to think of it, any talk of things like that to her would have been inappropriate no matter what her marital status was.

Trying to stop thinking of such ridiculous and far-fetched fantasies, Brock took a deep breath and tried to focus on getting some filing done. It was four o'clock on a Monday afternoon and he knew he'd be at the office until at least six. Ari sure wouldn't be thrilled about that.

A moment later, as Brock was just getting his filing really going, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in."

The door swung open and in walked Shayla, his dental hygienist.

"You're still here?" She asked.

"Yeah..." Brock said, slowly, raising an eyebrow her way.

"You have the benefit banquet at seven, you know that, right? You told me to remind you because you had to go pick up your suit."

Brock dropped the files onto his desk and sighed, rolling his neck. "Dammit. I forgot." He grabbed his keys and said, "Could you please file those? I have to go."

He rushed out of the building, knowing it wasn't right to ask Shayla to stay late when she hadn't gone home on time since she began working for him, but if Ari was to get ready in time, she would have to be told hours ahead of time. And she didn't even have her dress.

**xXx**

Reba's new home with Ford was a spacious one. An open floor plan, enormous backyard big enough for Ford's two dogs (which Reba was not fond of), and a huge master bedroom sometimes got overwhelming. One thing she didn't have to worry about, however, was the fear of the place not feeling home-y. She was so scared that his house would feel foreign to her and she would feel like she didn't belong, but it didn't feel like that at all. He had assured her that what was his was now hers and she shouldn't feel like she had to ask to use whatever was in the beautiful yellow house on Shoreline Street.

"You 'bout ready, baby?"

Staring in front of her full-length mirror, Reba gazed at the dress she wore. It was black with a fitted skirt and a rather plunging neckline.

"Are you sure this is okay for the banquet?" She asked, turning to the side a bit.

Ford walked into the bedroom from the adjoining bathroom, straightening his tie. "You look fine."

"Just fine?"

He smiled and rolled his eyes. "You look beautiful. You could wear a brown paper sack and look gorgeous."

"Newlywed talk..."

"Bull. You're beautiful and I would tell you so even if we weren't married."

He placed his watch on his wrist as Reba sighed, slipping her shoes on. "We're not going to stay for the whole thing, are we?"

"Probably. Why?"

"I just didn't want to spend the whole night in this uncomfortable dress, eating gross catered food, and talking to people I have to pretend to like. I'd rather spend the night with you."

Ford shrugged. "You know I'd rather stay home. Preferably with you and in that bed, but this is for my job. If I don't show up, do you know how bad that would look?"

Reba stood up from the small bench at the foot of their bed. "We've hardly spent any time together. Both of us have been working our tails off."

Ford stepped towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist and dipping her, grinning at her gasp and sudden firm grip on his arm. "Then we should do something about that." He gave her a quick peck on the lips before pulling her upright once more.

Her cheeks were red and flushed as she said, "What do you suggest?"

"We'll have a date night. Just the two of us."

She became excited, already planning the night in her head. It would be perfect. The last time her and Ford had had any kind of date night was a few months before the wedding. In between all the preparations and work, there was simply no time.

"When can we do it?"

"Oh, we can do it right now."

"Not that. Our date night, silly."

"I'll have to check my schedule. You check yours, okay?"

She nodded as the two left their bedroom, ready to head to the banquet. She felt happy that Ford had realized how much he had been working and had made an attempt to spend a nice night with her. It showed her that he was paying attention to her feelings. Something she hadn't had happen in years.

However, the fact that the last words he said on the matter were 'check your schedule', made the whole thing feel impersonal. He was her husband, not a client or her boss. He was already supposed to know her schedule. They were supposed to be that close.

**xXx**

"What's this thing for, again?"

Brock resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he and Ari walked in the doors of The Holiday Inn.

"It's a benefit banquet," He explained for the tenth time. "For kids who aren't in financially stable homes and able to go to college."

"So you make it to where they can go to college?"

"No, we raise money to buy school supplies to donate."

The two walked towards the open doors on the lobby floor that was decorated with balloons. There would be all kinds of doctors and lawyers in that room with their fake smiles and phony sincerity. He didn't mind going to the banquet, really. In fact, he thought it was a nice cause. He just didn't want to have to put up with the people who were only there for the free food and to pose for pictures for the newspaper.

"Wait, wait, wait."

Brock stopped walking and turned to Ari. "What?"

"How do I look?"

He looked at her pink cocktail dress and shrugged. "You look good."

"Good?"

"You look great? Fantastic? Wonderful? What are you looking for, here?"

She rolled her eyes and started walking into the room. "You never compliment me. I always have to ask you to."

She really was an attractive woman. She wasn't skanky or trashy or anything. She was very classy, Brock thought. That's one of the things that he first noticed about her. She wasn't like all the other girls her age. Her only problem was she had an attitude on her, which came with a pesky possessiveness quality.

"Fine. You look amazing!" He called after her before rolling his eyes as well, following her into the room.

Inside, there were several tables set up with extravagant centerpieces. There was a live band and they had the lights dimmed. Brock guessed that because there were also candles on the tables to match the tablecloths. People were milling about, waiting for the mayor to get up and speak on the small, raised stage. He knew a few people as his eyes searched the room, but no one he had a strong relationship or friendship with. Just acquaintances.

He headed for the long tables at the back of the room where the food and alcohol was. After eyeing the fruit cut into star shapes and little round things that looked like glorified pizza bites, he finally just got some of the punch from the punch bowl. He hoped there was some kind of booze in it. If he was going to survive the next three hours without shoving a pizza bite in his eye, he'd need it.

As he drank the punch, he searched the room for Ari. He hadn't seen her since they arrived, but knew she'd start a conversation with almost anyone. She could be chatting up a storm in the ladies room for all he knew. He figured he'd just walk around the room to see if there was anyone worth talking to.

He sure didn't have to wait long, however. Up near the ice sculpture at the front of the room, he spotted a familiar face. Or a familiar back, rather. He didn't even need to see her face to know it was Reba. He could tell it was her from behind with her hair up.

_She never wears her hair up..._

As he watched her, he noticed Ford's arm around her waist protectively. There were several men they were talking to and her husband seemed to be unconsciously protecting her. She held a glass of wine in her right hand, Ford held a Corona in his left. Every few moments, a smile would appear on her face and she would laugh at whatever conversation she was engaged in.

The longer he watched, the longer he found it harder to turn away. Soon enough, the men they were talking to were pulled away by their wives or girlfriends and Reba and Ford found their way to an empty table where they sat down side by side. Ford slid his arm around her shoulders and whispered something in her ear. She giggled and slapped gently at his chest.

That's when he turned and walked away. He had to or he was sure he was going to go slug the guy. Sure, they were divorced, but that didn't mean his jealousy issue had gone away. He wondered if he would ever get over seeing her with a Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome other than himself.

**xXx**

Ford always found the most inappropriate times to whisper inappropriate things to her. At banquets, in church, you name it, he's there. She figured he thought it was cute. And it was. She didn't mind it at all. It was part of his charm and truthfully, she was itching to let him do what he told her he would.

She giggled, slapping his chest and looking into his brown eyes, wanting to run her hands through his dark, chestnut brown hair.

"You're gonna get me all riled up," She whispered back.

"Isn't that the point?" He nuzzled her neck, growling as he nipped at her collarbone.

She shoved him away. "Not when we can't do anything about it right now." She tried to keep from grinning. If she grinned, she knew he'd convince her to slip into the bathroom for a quick rendezvous.

"You just wait until I get you home."

She rolled her eyes, pretending to be irritated with him. He just ignored her and kept up with his whispering and daring kisses that weren't on her lips.

She tried not to laugh, as he was tickling her neck, so she looked up towards the ceiling and then straight ahead again. Almost immediately, she saw a familiar person walking towards the back of the room. She knew it was Brock instantly. She tried not to gasp, but it couldn't be restrained.

Ford lifted his head and stared at her. "What?"

She just kept right on looking. He had startled her with his presence. Why was he even here? She didn't know dentists came to these kinds of benefits.

"What?" Ford asked again, turning his head to look at what she was gazing at.

As soon as he did, Brock turned around and his eyes locked with Reba's.

**You guys, please don't kill me. I have had such a bad case of writer's block. It's been really bad. I actually forgot where I wanted to go with this story... (I remembered two days ago. Haha.) But writer's block is now gone and I have another scene planned out so all I have to do is type it. Should be up within the next few days. In the mean time, I hope this chapter didn't disappoint. I'm not fond of it, but maybe you all are. I hope so! Please review! ((:**


	7. Chapter 7

"You can go talk to him if you want."

She hadn't been staring at him for more than five seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Ford's voice broke her momentary trance.

"Do what?" She turned towards him.

"I said you can go talk to him if you want. It won't bother me."

She glanced in Brock's direction. He was still there, hands in his pockets, as if he knew she'd be heading his way in mere seconds.

"Are you sure?"

Ford leaned forward and kissed her gently. "You love me, I love you. I trust you."

She smiled before standing and heading in her ex-husband's direction. When she arrived at the place he stood, she sighed. "I didn't intend on seeing you here."

"I could say the same."

"How have you been?"

"Great. You?"

"Same."

Conversation quickly dribbled away, if you could call it conversation. They used to be able to talk for long hours without stopping, having deep, meaningful talks with one another. But that was in the early years of their marriage. But still. Conversation had never been this awkward. Not even when they first divorced.

"Are you here with Ari?" Reba asked, trying to get things going again. Part of her hoped he was here alone. She knew it was wrong, but she kind of wished he was still single. She wanted him to know how it felt to not have a significant other while the other ex was married. On the other hand, she wanted him to be happy. It was a confusing situation her mind had come up with.

"Wouldn't you rather ask if I'm still with her?"

"Yes, but that wouldn't be very polite, now, would it?"

"Since when are you polite to me?"

"Since I'm in a public place where I can be judged."

"Oh, so now you're self-conscious."

"Maybe. What's it to you?"

He started laughing and Reba couldn't help but smile. She soon realized the two were flirting but became aware just as quick that she didn't care. Her husband was sitting feet away but flirting with Brock was on her mind at the moment.

She didn't understand it, though. She adored and thought the world of Ford. Plus, she loved him with her whole being. So why did she want to stand here and banter back and forth with her ex?

"Hey, we better get goin'."

Reba flinched as Ford's arm went around her waist and he stepped up beside her. She looked up at him then back at Brock, saying, "I guess we should. It was nice talking to you."

"Same. See you later." He nodded his head at Ford who did the same before walking off to find Ari, Reba supposed.

"Why are we leaving?" She asked as her and Ford exited the hotel after saying goodbye to some friends.

"I just want to get our late night started early."

Reba laughed and the two got into Ford's truck. Her heart soared when Ford reached across the middle seat to grab his wife's hand. Affection was something she had missed and to have it after so long, it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

"I'm thankful for you," She said suddenly.

Ford smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. "And I'm thankful for you."

**xXx**

That Friday evening, Reba was busy getting ready for Ford's son, Brent, to visit for the week before going back to school in Dallas the following Friday.

She had set up the guest room with new sheets for the bed, made sure the dresser was dusted and the floor was vacuumed before cleaning the adjoining bathroom. Once she was satisfied with her cleaning, she went downstairs to find the nineteen-year-old already there. His bags were thrown on the couch and his head was in the refrigerator, rear end in the air.

Reba had only met Brent two other times. Once, before her and Ford got married, and then again at the wedding. He was the spitting image of Ford, and gave her an idea of what her husband looked like in his younger days. Sure, she had seen pictures, but there was something about the physical thing.

"Findin' everything you need?" She said with a teasing tone to her voice, hands on her hips.

Brent turned around with a sandwich in his mouth, soda in one hand, and leftover barbecue in the other. "Hey," He mumbled with his full mouth.

"Hi," Reba said, going into the kitchen and grabbing a plate from the cabinet, handing it to him.

He took it with a sheepish grin and sat down at the bar. "Thanks."

"No problem." Reba went and stood on the other side of the bar to load the dishwasher and talk to her stepson at the same time. "How was your trip?"

"Boring. As usual."

Reba nodded, reaching into her pocket. "Your dad wanted me to give you this." She handed over a few twenties and Brent took them graciously.

"Thanks. It's been hard since I lost my job."

"Where did you work?"

"Taco Bell."

"Laying people off, huh?"

"Oh, no. I sat in one of the sinks on a dare and my manager saw me on one of the cameras."

Reba's eyes widened and she put her head down so Brent wouldn't see. And this kid got accepted into a college? She knew Ford was a strict father, but apparently his efforts hadn't paid off.

"I'm trying to get another job at McDonald's, though," Brent went on. "Can't be much different flipping hamburgers than folding burritos."

"Have you ever considered working in an office doing clean up or anything like that?"

"Nah. I'm not cut out for stuff like that."

Reba nodded, turning around to clear off the counter next to the sink. She stacked the mail in a neat pile before throwing out a few empty beer bottles Ford had just left there.

"Whose are those?" Brent asked.

"Your dad's." The lid on the trash can slammed shut as Reba began wiping off the counter.

"What's he doing with them?"

Reba looked over at him carefully. "What do you mean?"

"He's not drinking them, is he?"

Brent had stopped eating and his eyes were getting wide. Reba looked at him like he was insane.

"Well, yes. Why?"

"Nobody told you? He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"He's an alcoholic. He'd been sober for ten years before he met you. Now he's drinking again?"

**As promised, another chapter. Hope you all liked this one. (:**


	8. Chapter 8

There was a silence between the two. The house seemed to slowly stop working, as no sounds came from it, either.

"A-alcoholic?" Reba managed to stutter out.

Brent nodded. "You didn't know?"

"No. He didn't tell me."

Brent shrugged. "I didn't mean for you to find out this way."

Reba backed up to the counter, eyes staring straight ahead. "It's fine."

Brent watched her. She seemed genuinely hurt that her husband, his dad, had been keeping such a secret. And that was how he knew that she loved him.

"Would you tell me about it?" She asked. "If you want to. If it's uncomfortable for you to talk about, don't."

"I'm fine. You don't look like you are, though."

She slowly lifted her eyes to look at him. "I'm fine. I just want to know the whole story so I can get him help."

"Well, he's been drinking since he was about thirteen." Brent nodded as Reba's eyes widened. "He was pretty good at keeping it a secret since his parents were always working and never caring or paying attention to what he did. It continued up until ten years ago. When my mom died, he laid down the bottle and didn't pick it back up."

"Until he married me."

"I guess so..."

Reba sighed, feeling hurt and misled. She was sure that Ford had been completely and thoroughly honest with her about his past. She had been truthful about her own.

_Don't jump to conclusions. Maybe he's just ashamed._

But part of her wasn't so sure. They were married. Shouldn't he have told the truth no matter what the truth was? She sure thought that was what marriage was all about.

**xXx**

Later that evening, Brent had planned to go out with a few friends from high school, so Reba and Ford would be home alone. Ford came home soon after Brent left and Reba had already planned out what she was going to say. It wasn't like he was trying to drink in secret, so there was no reason to bust him for lying. The only problem she had was his deceitfulness.

She was sitting where Brent had been sitting earlier in the kitchen, working on some paperwork, when Ford came in through the back door.

He groaned from a hard day's work and dropped his briefcase on the counter. "I have had a full day."

"So have I... So have I..."

He didn't respond, going to the refrigerator and peering in. "Is Brent here?" He asked, looking over his shoulder.

Reba hadn't looked up from her paperwork once. "No, he's out with friends."

"Oh. That's cool." He grabbed a beer and popped the cap off. "When will he be back?"

"Don't know."

Ford took a long drink, sighing when he finally set the bottle on the counter. "What are you up to?" He asked, looking over her paperwork from where he stood.

"Just some stuff I didn't get done today."

"I brought some stuff home, too. We can work together." He opened his briefcase and pulled out a few papers.

"Lemme ask you a question."

"Shoot."

She finally looked up at him and Ford frowned when he saw her red nose and tear stains. "If Brent had been here, would you have gotten something different to drink?"

"What?"

"You heard me. Would you have? Is that why you asked if he was here? You knew what he would think if he saw you drinking."

Ford tried once more to play dumb. "What?"

"Stop that!" Reba yelled. "Brent told me all about your little secret. Apparently you've been an alcoholic all your life, got sober for ten years, then started drinking again when you met me?"

"That's not how it is..."

"Then how is it?"

"Reba, come on. What does it even matter? I don't get violent with you when I drink. Why should I stop when it's not a problem? I don't even drink that much."

"What's the first thing you did when you got home just now?"

"Put my briefcase down."

Reba stared at him, feeling the tears begin to well up. "Why are you being this way?"

"What way?"

"Hurtful. I asked you a question, why do you have to answer it like that?"

By now her voice was shaking and that seconds-before-you-cry ache in your throat began.

"I don't know why it matters if I'm drinking responsibly."

"How do I know that you are?"

"What?"

"You're not always with me. You always want to work from home. Who knows what you're doing all day here, alone."

"Working. What do you think I'm doing?"

"I don't know. How am I supposed to know you're not lounging around with a bottle all day?"

"If I was doing that, we'd be out on the street."

Reba shook her head. "I don't like you drinking, knowing you've had trouble with it."

"Reba, it's not a problem-"

"Yes, it is. Even if you didn't have a drinking problem and I was uncomfortable with it, you not stopping when I asked you to is a problem."

"How so?"

"It means you're choosing drinking over me!"

"I am not!"

"Then stop."

"But-" He began to argue but stopped when he saw her eyes. They were glistening with tears. He sighed and put his head down. "Fine. I won't drink anymore."

"You promise?"

"I promise." He took his half-full beer and poured the remaining contents down the sink to show her he meant it. "No more, okay?"

She nodded, finally letting the tears spill over. He walked over to her and waited for her to stand to wrap her in his arms. She looped her arms around his neck and cried onto his chest.

"Baby, why are you crying?" He whispered into her hair.

"I'm just so afraid of everything going wrong."

He comforted her but that didn't stop the nagging thoughts in the back of her head. If he hadn't brought up his drinking problem before now, what else was he trying to keep secret?

**Hope this chapter did the story justice. (:**


	9. Chapter 9

That evening, Reba lay on her bed with a book, reading while Ford showered. She tried her hardest to focus on the story, but the events from earlier kept replaying throughout her mind. Technically, the two had fought and made up. She knew that Ford, being a man, thought everything was now peachy keen. He was sorely mistaken.

Even though he had apologized and they had hugged and made up, Reba was still hurt and confused. Those two emotions were readily turning into anger with each passing minute. Why he felt the need to keep something from her, she didn't know, but she was determined to find out.

Gritting her teeth as she heard the shower turn off, she flipped to the next chapter in the book, trying to find something interesting to read. The page she was on was just repeating itself five different ways, and it added to her anger.

A moment later, Ford walked out of the bathroom in nothing but his boxers, holding a towel. He said nothing as he put the towel in the hamper and slowly crawled onto the bed, lying on his stomach a few inches from Reba. He put his chin in his hands and observed her a moment.

Reba could feel his gaze, but she would not look up. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She would continue to read the same sentence over and over until he looked away or died. Whichever came first.

Neither of those happened. Instead, he spoke.

"I love it when you wear your glasses."

Slowly, Reba peered through her black frames and over the top of her book at him. "Excuse me?"

"I love it when you wear your glasses. They're cute."

She smiled sarcastically and went back to her book, hoping he'd look away.

He didn't.

Instead, he scooted closer to her, taking her book from her hands and closing it before lying it on his pillow, out of the way.

"I was trying to read that."

"I know." He crawled closer.

"You're being awfully rude." She went to grab her book, but he placed a hand on her wrist to stop her.

"You can't think of anything else to do besides reading?"

"There's nothing else I want to do." She snatched her arm away from his grip.

"Nothing at all?" He grinned mischievously, leaning forward to nuzzle her neck.

"No."

He ran his teeth along her collarbone. "Are you sure?"

She shivered, shaking her head. "Nothing."

He shrugged. "I guess I'll just have to change your mind, then, won't I?"

She stared at him and his crooked smile with a raised eyebrow. He gently kissed the corner of her mouth before moving to her lips. It took her a second, but she kissed him back, rolling her eyes when he smiled slightly. He soon pulled away, kissing down her neck. When she felt his hands go for the hem of her night shirt, she sighed.

"Alright. Come on, now. Stop. Brent's just down the hall."

Ford ignored her, raising her shirt just a bit and kissing the skin right above her pajama pants.

"Ford...are you hearing me?"

"Yeah, but you're not saying what I want you to say," was his mumbled reply. He kept raising her shirt little by little, kissing the skin he uncovered.

"Seriously. Stop it. Your son is just down the hall."

"He's nineteen. He knows this kind of stuff goes on when two people are married."

She put her hands on his shoulders, trying to stop his actions, but he wasn't having it. He just kept right on.

"Stop, Ford...quit it...don't...don't...don't stop..."

By the time her mind had been changed, her shirt was off and Ford's mouth had replaced it. Her hands were holding his head to her chest, kicking the covers off of her so he could have better access. He positioned himself between her legs, pushing her bottoms off, before kissing her on the mouth again. She was just fixing to slide his boxers down his legs when there was a knock at the door.

"Ignore it," Ford told her, his head buried in her neck.

"I can't," She whispered, trying to control her breaths. "Whatcha need, Brent?" She asked as Ford tried to get situated.

"It's Jake."

Reba's eyes widened as she shoved Ford off of her. He rolled over onto his side of the bed with a scoff. "What the hell, Reba?"

"Sorry..." She grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed and slipped it on before going to her bedroom door.

Sure enough, there stood Jake in the hallway.

"Jake, honey, what are you doing here?" She asked in shock. "Not that I'm complaining, but it's almost eleven at night."

"I called you," He said, shrugging. "You didn't answer, so I left you a message saying I was on my way."

"When did you call?"

"Like, two hours ago."

"I'm sorry, honey, I was probably in the shower. What are you in town for?"

"I got kicked out of college and I need a place to stay..."

**Thanks for all the reviews. (:**


	10. Chapter 10

The two lay next to each other in the dark, trying to regain control of their breathing. Reba was curled up next to Ford with her head to his chest, listening to his heart beat rapidly. A slight smile graced her lips, knowing she was the only one who could do that to him.

"So, he got caught spray-painting the president's car, huh?"

Reba nodded, eyes still closed. "They kicked him and all his buddies out, no questions asked."

Ford gave a short, quiet laugh.

"It's not funny."

"Kind of."

Reba backed away from him and he rolled over, looking up at her as she hovered over him. "That's on his record. How many colleges are going to accept him now that he has something like vandalism going in his file?"

"He'll be fine. Did you lash out at him very bad?"

Reba lay down on her own pillow, pulling the sheets over her. "For your information, I did not. I got him a pillow and a quilt to sleep with on the couch and came back up here."

"I was just asking."

"Whatever."

"Hey." He sat up and leaned over her. "Don't get all weird on me."

"Don't assume things and I won't."

Ford shook his head and laid back down, snatching up the sheets and rolling on his side with his back to Reba. And that was how they both slept for the rest of the night, even after making love and moving earth. It took awhile for Reba to fall asleep.

**xXx**

The next morning came too quickly. Reba's unspoken vow to never go to bed angry with Ford had just been stomped into the dust. She usually viewed the morning as a way to start over, to make things right, but after their argument and no goodnight kiss, she just didn't feel like getting out of bed.

Reluctantly, she sat up and thought about how the first three weeks of their marriage hadn't been what she hoped they would be. It didn't make a person feel particularly good.

As she stood up, something to her left caught her eye. There, on her nightstand, was a dozen roses and what appeared to be a note from Ford. Reba's heart softened towards him as she picked it up.

_I'm sorry for being an ass. I love you.  
>-Ford<em>

She tucked the note under her pillow before walking into the bathroom for a shower. She'd put the flowers in water afterwards.

After she had her shower and had gotten dressed, she put her makeup on then went downstairs. Jake was sprawled out on the fold-out couch with an empty pizza box on the coffee table. She assumed he had ordered it after he had gotten settled last night.

She sighed as she began to pick up her son's mess, careful not to wake him. Her efforts went unrewarded, though, as he stirred and opened his eyes.

"What are you doing?" He asked groggily, sitting up while rubbing his eyes.

Reba smiled at his disheveled hair. "Just trying to straighten up a bit." Her heels clicked on the kitchen floor as she threw the pizza box out, along with a to-go cup. "Late night?"

Jake nodded. "Brent woke up a little after I got here and we ordered something to eat and played the Wii."

"Jake..."

"Come on, Mom. I'm not thirteen anymore. I know when to stop and go to bed."

"Clearly."

The teenager finally stood up from the bed and joined his mother in the kitchen. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong with me, thank you." She continued her cleaning in the kitchen before she would have to head to work.

"You never were a very good liar."

"I have to show the old house today, is all. No big deal."

"Oh..."

"Yeah."

"Well, Mom, that is a big deal."

"It really isn't." She poured coffee into her thermos before shutting the coffee maker off. "I have to get going, alright?" She gave Jake a quick hug and a kiss on the head. "Be good today. Don't make too much of a mess."

"I won't."

Reba left the house and took a deep breath as she got into her car. Today would be sort of a difficult day, but she was trying her hardest not to get too sentimental. The old house was just that. Old. And that's how it would stay.

**xXx**

Reba drove up Oak street with a pang in her heart. The house that held so many memories came into view and she had to bite her lip to keep the tears away. She remembered the day her and Brock bought that house. She recalled the day they moved in. Kyra hadn't wanted to leave the old house and the two had fought with her the whole way to the new house and for weeks after. She had brought Jake home there and realized he would have to be more attached to it than anyone else. He knew it better than anyone. He'd lived there until he went off to college.

Sighing, Reba pulled into the driveway, smiling simply at the roses that still stood tall in the flowerbed by the porch. Someone must have been watering them. She figured it was the elderly neighbor who had given Reba the roses in the first place.

Despite the truck of the potential buyer that was parked in the driveway, nothing had changed. It was still the same old family house to her and it really did break her heart to have to sell it.

Grabbing her fliers, she exited her car and walked towards the front door, finding it unlocked and slightly open. With a puzzled look on her face, she pushed the door open just a little wider and poked her head in.

"Hello?"

She heard footsteps from not far off. As a safety precaution, she stayed outside until she identified the person. She knew for a fact she had locked that door the last time she was there. No one else besides her had a key. No one except-

"Brock. What are you doing here?" She breathed a sigh of relief as her heart began to beat more regularly.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He opened the door so he could see her better. Smiling, he gestured towards the living room with his head. "You comin' in?"

"_You're_ the one who's interested in the house?"

"You seem shocked. As if something like that could never happen." His smile played only at the corners of his mouth. Reba rolled her eyes at his playfulness. She was so not in the mood to deal with his jokes. She had other clients to attend to.

"If this is some kind of prank, it's not funny. I'm really busy today, Brock."

"Is this how you treat all your clients?"

"Excuse me?"

"I want to buy the house, Reba. I'm not kidding around."

Reba's arms dropped to her sides. "What?"

"I want to buy the house."

"What for? So you and your girlfriend can live in it?"

Brock's smile fell and all the sparkle left his blue eyes. He kind of frowned as he stared at Reba's small frame, feeling that she might attack him.

"That hurt." He said this matter-of-factly, hoping she'd get the picture. He wasn't trying to be rude, but she was wrong for saying that, he thought.

Reba sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, Brock, but are you serious? We lived in this house for twenty years, raised three kids here, and now you want it for you and your girlfriend?"

"Why would we live here when we already have the condo? It's not like we need a bigger place. She doesn't want kids, and I don't need anymore."

"So, why do you want this place, then, huh?"

"You didn't let me finish. I know you can't - and don't really want to - handle this house plus yours and Ford's house, so I thought I'd buy it and rent it out. I know you wanted it to kind of stay in the family, so I figured why not?"

Reba tried not to smile. She was embarrassed for jumping to conclusions, but still wanted a reason to be mad at him so she wouldn't look like an ass, but the smile found its way to her face. Brock saw it and smiled with her.

"Figured it was the least I could do, ya know?"

"I think we're past that now, don't you think?"

He shrugged, neither wanting to talk about the end of their marriage, since it happened so long ago. Why bring up old hurt when there were new and more happy things to talk about. Especially Brock buying the house that meant so much to her.

"I guess so."

She looked down and kind of swung her arms from side to side. Brock thought she looked like a little girl and chuckled.

"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions."

"I know. It's okay."

She looked up and melted at the sight of his grin. She knew that wasn't a good thing, still being able to go weak in the knees for him. But she figured it was just because he was her first love. Their feelings for each other would never go away and she knew that, but it was still odd.

"So..." She said slowly. "I guess...thank you for buying the place. It really means a lot to me."

"Hey, what are best friends for?"

**I know it's been forever and a day since I've updated, but here's the latest chapter. I'll try to update more frequently and I really hope I didn't disappoint with this chapter you all have been waiting so long for!**


	11. Chapter 11

"I sold the house today."

Jake looked up from his video game. "Really?" His voice seemed a bit sad.

"Yeah. To your dad."

"Dad bought the house?" He stood from the couch and walked into the kitchen where Reba set her stuff down.

"He did. Surprised me, too."

"Did he say why?"

"He knew I didn't want to let the place go to some stranger, so he said he'd buy it and rent it out to kind of keep it in the family."

"That's very sweet and unlike him."

"I know. But I appreciate it more than he'll ever know."

She walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs, hoping to find Ford somewhere up there to tell him the news. He had been wanting that house out of his hair as well. Reba had been driving him crazy with it and she couldn't wait to tell him it had finally been sold.

"Ford!" She yelled when she reached the top of the stairs. "Where are you?"

"In the bedroom!" Was the response.

She bounced in there, happily, finding him in the adjoining bathroom.

"Whatcha doin'?" She asked, hands on her hips as she watched him run gel through his hair.

"Getting ready to go out."

"Go out where?"

"To that new place downtown."

"That doesn't give me any information."

He switched the light off and brushed past her, going into the bedroom.

"Why are you quizzing me? I'm going to go eat and hang out with the guys."

"Why didn't you tell me? I don't have time to change now." She went to her closet, which was on the other side of the room from his, and began to sift through it, looking for something to throw on.

"Umm, Reba?"

"What?"

"It's just going to be the guys."

She turned around. "Do what?"

"Like a no girlfriends or wives thing."

"Oh..."

"Yeah. We do it once a month, remember?"

_No, _she wanted to say. _I don't remember, because we haven't even been married a month and you're already wanting to leave the little wife at home to go out with your buddies. _

But instead, she said, "No, I don't recall. When will you be back?"

With his back turned towards his own closet, he shrugged. "Late."

Reba nodded while biting her lip. "Late, huh? You gonna be drinking?"

She saw his shoulders sag as he turned. "I might."

"You told me you wouldn't!"

He threw his head back with a loud sigh before looking at her. "I'll be responsible. Why can't you let me have a good time without nagging?"

"You can have a 'good time' without getting wasted."

"When have you ever seen me wasted? I don't drink to get drunk and you know that."

"Do we really have to go over this again? I asked you not to drink, why are you going to anyway? Why do you even have to go out? I sold the house today and I thought you and me and Brent and Jake could all go out to eat and celebrate."

"You sold the house today?"

"Yeah, I did. And that's what I was coming up here to tell you before you unloaded this on me."

"Unloaded?"

"Yes. And even if I hadn't sold the house, we've been married for three weeks. Isn't there some kind of rule that says you skip outings to bars with your friends to stay home with your wife? At least for a few months?"

"We have all the time in the world to spend together, Reba. I'm going out with my friends tonight. That's what marriage is about. Letting the other do things they want to do. We don't have to be together 24/7." He sprayed his cologne before putting on his watch. "Who did you sell the house to?"

"Brock," Reba said through gritted teeth. He had some nerve saying those things to her, and she didn't like it. He had never been so shallow before. Their marriage wasn't some television show where he could do whatever he wanted then come home later and everything would be just fine.

"Brock? Like, your ex-husband Brock?"

"That'd be the one."

"Why'd you sell the house to him?"

"Why not?"

"Because he obviously wants in your pants."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't give me that look. You know it, I know it, he knows it. He's using this to get closer to you."

"Ford, Brock and I are divorced and have been for a long time. There's nothing like that going on."

"Then why do you flirt with him every time you utter a word to the man? I don't do that with other women."

"Brock's my best friend. He has been for years-"

"I'm supposed to be your best friend!" Ford yelled, causing Reba to step back a few steps.

"Don't yell at me!"

"Well, don't say things like that and I won't! And you stop yelling at me!"

"What is wrong with you, Ford? It's like you're a completely different person. Where's the guy I dated for almost a year? Where's the sweet, loving, caring, humble man I fell in love with?"

"I've not gone anywhere. As soon as we got married, you became a control freak. I'm only trying to defend myself."

Reba stepped closer to him. "I am not a control freak, you are an alcoholic. I'm only trying to help my husband. Excuse me if that's so wrong."

"I don't need your help. I'm a big boy. I've been handling this by myself for a long time. I don't need you to-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence before Reba reared back and slapped him right across the face. As soon as her hand made contact with his cheek, tears burned in her eyes.

"You don't need me, huh?" She shoved him backwards. "Then why did you marry me? Why did you lie and say you needed me if you didn't?"

Ford let her push him around with his arms at his sides, trying to keep his temper under control. She thought she was hurting him, and he let her believe that.

"You're being ridiculous," He said calmly, trying to walk away. But she just followed.

"No, I'm not. You're being a jackass. This whole relationship never should have happened."

He turned around, grabbing her by the wrists to stop her from hitting him anymore.

"Why don't you hit me back, huh? Too much of a coward to fight back?" The tears still streamed down her face. She was so angry, she hardly understood what she was saying. The words made sense in her mind, but as they came out, she frowned at the sentences.

"I'm not going to make him better than me by hitting you. If you want to leave, I'm not going to help you." He let go of her wrists rather roughly.

"Who said anything about leaving? Do you want me to leave?"

Ford stopped in the doorway of their bedroom and turned to look at his wife. She looked so hurt and helpless standing there alone.

"No, I don't. I love you, Reba, but obviously, there's some things you've pushed back that you have to deal with. So please, by all means, go figure things out. Just know, I've never once lied to you. Even though you think I have."

"What's that even supposed to mean?" She asked with force as he headed down the stairs. There was no answer.

* * *

><p>She called Brock after Ford left. She was so confused about everything. Her mood swings had been getting worse, as well as the hot flashes. She knew that was no excuse to go off on Ford, but there was no other explanation.<p>

But maybe Ford was right. She just had to get things taken care of. Even she had noticed that since her and Brock had had more contact, she had been acting a little different. Brock sure had been being friendlier, but she was sure he didn't mean anything by it. But maybe she wanted him to...

"First fight?" He asked when she got out of her car.

Reba had asked him to meet her in the parking lot of the grocery store. It was late and she didn't want to drive that far, plus she figured the lot would be empty so they could talk without being picked up for loitering.

"Yeah." She played with her keys in her hands. "He's upset that you bought the house."

Brock noticed her head was down and he realized she was embarrassed by the fact that she could possibly make him embarrassed by bringing that up.

"I'm sorry, Reba," He told her, sighing, shutting the door of his truck. "I honestly did it only to help. No other reason."

Reba raised her eyebrows, remembering Ford's words. "He seems to think you have...ideas."

"Ideas?"

"Well, if you're buying the house, we can't exactly be the regular divorced, non-talking couple society expects us to be, can we?"

"I still don't understand..."

"He thinks you want to sleep with me."

There was an awkward silence as Reba finally looked up for the first time since arriving. She saw Brock's shocked face in the light of the grocery store's glowing sign and nodded slowly, finishing her statement.

"And that's not exactly ideal for him to think that considering how well our relationship has been going."

He noted the sarcasm in her voice. "Things aren't going well?"

She shook her head, resting against her SUV. "No. Not like I had hoped." She lifted her head. "He wasn't supposed to be an alcoholic and I wasn't supposed to go through early menopause." When Brock made a face, she realized what she had said. "Sorry."

"It's fine." He looked to the ground, running a nervous hand through his hair. "But uh, I don't want to sleep with you, so you can tell him that."

"Well, I pretty much told him he was crazy."

"That's one way to get your marriage back on the right track..."

"How do you get a marriage back on the right track when it was never there to begin with?"

Brock sighed, shrugging with his hands deep in his pockets. "I don't know."

She looked down. "I guess I could start by letting go of the one I knew so well so many years ago, huh?" She looked up at him nervously to see him nodding.

"That's a start."

"Can I be honest?"

"Sure."

"I haven't moved on."

Brock stared at her. "You mean from us?"

"Yes. How can I let go of something that meant the world to me? I tried to use Ford to replace us, but it's not working. I became so lonely that I considered going home to my _parents, _so I go out and find a new husband so I'm not a pathetic old lady, but it didn't work. How do I move on and finally be happy again?"

Brock opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. She was saying all the things he wished he had the guts to say. What was he supposed to tell her? That he still loved her and they should run away to some foreign country and get married, living happily ever after? No. But he wanted to. He wanted to be with her more than anything, but he knew they would only break each other's hearts again. He couldn't hurt her like that again.

Finally realizing the harsh truth of what he had to do to get her to move on, he sighed.

"You just have to let go. I tried for years. It's not easy...but it's possible."

The hurt that flashed through her eyes tore him to pieces. He had just said that he was completely over her, that he didn't want to be with her. He hoped that was the last lie he ever had to lie because it was just unbearable.

"Oh," Was her response.

"Reba, I'm sorry. We had our good times, but we have to move on. It's not healthy to dwell on things we can't change. I loved you, yes. Very much. But that's done with. I love Ari and you love Ford. He's a good man. Yeah, he has some problems, but who doesn't? And who better to help him with that than you? You're so loving and encouraging and he's lucky to have you."

She nodded, even though it hurt like nothing else. "I guess you're right." She took a deep breath and let it out. "This whole love thing is kind of ridiculous sometimes, huh?"

He nodded with a slight smile. "I hope you're not angry with me."

She shook her head with a sad smile. "Nah. I like it when you tell the truth, believe it or not."

He chuckled, moving forward to hug her. "Friends?"

She hugged him back, realizing this might be the last time she could do so. "Friends." She closed her eyes and held him tight, trying to remember everything about the way he felt. After this, she couldn't think of him as more than her friend. Not if she wanted a healthy marriage to her husband.

When they pulled away, Reba looked down for a second before Brock said, "You should get on home. It's gettin' late."

"Yeah. Thanks for meeting me here."

"Hey, it's no problem."

He backed up towards his truck and she went to open the driver's side door of her car.

"Call me tomorrow," She told him, phrasing it more like a question. He nodded with a smile.

"First thing."

She smiled and got into her car, starting the engine with one last look at him before driving toward home.

Brock watched her pull out onto the road before climbing in his Chevy. He didn't put the key in the ignition right away. Instead, he thought about the words he had spoken. He hoped she hadn't taken it too hard. He loved her too much to know that he had hurt her badly again. He knew, however, she'd go home and make up with Ford and go to sleep with a smile on her face beside the man she loved and who loved her the way she deserved to be loved. That's all he wanted for her, but it killed him knowing he couldn't be the one.

Sometimes, the road to happiness was a twisted one.

_**The End**_

* * *

><p><strong>Yes, it's over. I began this story with really no plot in mind, just kind of writing as I went along and for the fun of it. However, I hope it's been somewhat entertaining despite it being rather sad and confusing. The next thing I'll be posting is my series. I had the first story of the series posted on my other account I never use anymore plus one chapter from the second story, but I deleted those so I could post them on this account. The first one will be called Walk The Line. If you remember it, great, if not, I hope you like it. Either way, review! The series is completely done and all I have to do is type it out. I think there are six or seven stories. They're not long, but all together, it's like one big story. I hope you'll enjoy it. I'll post the first chapter of Walk The Line either tomorrow or the next day and yes, I'm finally done with this big, long novel of an author's note. Thanks for reading! (:<strong>


End file.
